S. O. P.

The United States is facing the worst environmental disaster in its history.

As is usual - in cases as varied as the assassination of John Kennedy and the disaster at Three Mile Island - a government commission has been established to investigate.

As is usual, the commission has requested subpoena powers from Congress.

As is usual, the House of Representatives voted to allow this, 419-1, the sole dissent coming from perennial gadfly Ron Paul.

As is usual, the Senate Majority Leader requested unanimous consent to approve these powers for the commission.

As has become distressingly usual over the last four years, one or more unnamed members of the Senate Republican Caucus said "No".

...

I grow unutterably weary of these ... people.

Postscript: Oh, hooray, they've changed their minds. That still leaves the question: what the hell were they thinking? Has saying "no" simply become reflexive with them?

Doors

Buster dearly loves his fetch games. I'll toss a toy, and he'll chase after it. Retrieving it, he does not return to me, but rather to high ground: my bed, or the couch. Often, he'll be deliberately contrary, running to the couch if the game begins in the bedroom, or to the bed if in the living room. Yesterday, I was tossing the rag rope for him, carefully blocking the exit from the bedroom. I was throwing it into different corners for entertainment. (Occasionally I'd make a mistake, and it would land in the laundry hamper or on a bookshelf, in which case I'd have to recover it myself.) The door to the master bathroom was ajar, and at last a well-aimed toss put the toy into that room. The door opens into the bedroom; Buster approached cautiously, then stepped in - and bumped the door with his shoulder. He leaped back in surprise, then, keeping one eye on the door, crept close enough to grab the rope by one end - one strand, even - and duck back away from that dangerous obstacle.

I understand his feelings. Some time back - it must be fifteen or twenty years - the university installed a number of automatic doors. Each was controlled by an infrared sensor atop the door and angled downward. Unfortunately, this meant that the doors' behavior depended on their own angle and on the height of the approaching person. The sensor at the front door of the Science Building was angled a bit high, which meant that a six-foot-plus fellow like my colleague JH had no difficulty, but five-foot-five me had... difficulties. The door would invite me to enter, then withdraw the invitation abruptly. On one occasion the damn thing came within inches of emasculating me. (That system has long since been retired; all of the automatic doors now on campus are controlled by push-buttons.)

Oh, yes. I understand being cautious about doors.